#death to hojo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

prismaticpichu · 1 month

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ANGST TIME, folks! 🩸

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence/Character Death

Characters: Zack Fair, Sephiroth

Summary: Splayed, drenched black hair; blood-splattered cheeks and arms; a soaked, reddened uniform peppered with bullet holes—dozens of holes, maybe even more—each one leaking with coppery fluid that trickled onto the grass, staining the blades deep red, his lifeless figure crooked against a rich, gleaming blossom of crimson.

It was Zack.

(You can also read the fic on AO3 here!)

One Less Star

The world was titling

His body carried itself in a nebulous, drunken rhythm—his boots sinking, then lifting, then descending unevenly into the slanted canvas of earth, advancing him with liquid limbs.

“…N-no.”

Whatever buzzing had been infesting his mind was a different entity now, honed into an eerie ring that tore like a blade through his ears, pulsing like a heartbeat as he waded on through the mud.

“…No.”

Every step was growing thicker, more difficult; his boots sank deeper with every footfall, deeper into the slush, leather treads now caked with a viscosity that glistened like oil under the jungle’s humid night.

“…”

He opened his mouth to speak, to utter the breathy denial that continued to shiver against his lips—

Masamune dropped, splashing in red.

—and the words died in Sephiroth’s throat as he stood over the body, almost reeling with the world.

Splayed, drenched black hair; blood-splattered cheeks and arms; a soaked, reddened uniform peppered with bullet holes—dozens of holes, maybe even more—each one leaking with coppery fluid that trickled onto the grass, staining the blades deep red, his lifeless figure crooked against a rich, gleaming blossom of crimson.

It was Zack.

The man’s knees were what sent him buckling to the ground, completely impervious to the arctic chill of bloodied mud against his clothes, his leather shape arching like a shadow against the bruised indigo sky. His lips parted in some ghost of a sound, but not enough to be audible—hardly even a whisper, a breath. It was more akin to a throaty crack as he sank beside the young SOLDIER, whose life had been brutally extinguished behind his very back.

They… they were all dead, each and every one of them. Each and every one of the SOLDIERs that had attempted to gun them down, to bring them back to the chains he and Zack had unfettered themselves from only days before, was dead. Their bodies were strewn behind him—beside him—slashed down in bloody heaps or killed with magic; the latter had been what destroyed the helicopters, pillars of smoke still dancing in the air behind him, ballooning the thick scent of nature with ash and smog.

And he… he had been so angry…

Trembling, Sephiroth’s hand felt bloodless as he lifted it from the ground, floating like a ghost across the darkened air, and gingerly placed it on Zack’s wounded chest.

“…No…” The word finally resurfaced on Sephiroth’s lips, a cold and frigid denial, shaking his head slightly as he felt nothing beneath his palm—no pulse, no song, no rhythm… “No, no, no…” His breath accelerated, sharpened, and he floated his hand from Zack’s chest to his cheek—cold. Cold and wet. Cold and wet and streaked…

He had been crying.

Sephiroth would never be able to articulate the feeling that tore him asunder at that moment, that breathed unbearable gales of ice into his veins, that slashed and clawed and ate at his chest until there was utterly nothing left.

Zack hadn’t just been shot, killed in a matter of seconds with a round of bullets.

He had bled to death.

He had been forced to the ground, paralyzed in pain, and bled to death.

And Sephiroth had let it happen.

You belong to me, boy.

Sephiroth’s ears went numb at the voice, the bitter cut of memory.

Did you really think that you could just run away, Sephiroth? Did you TRULY think that you are anything without me?

Sephiroth’s eyes grew distant.

After all I’ve done for you, boy… After all this company and I have given you. You best believe there will be consequences for this disobedience—this selfishness! Now… give me your sword, boy.

Sephiroth’s free hand sank into the dirt, balling.

Do you know how disappointed your mother is no—

Red. Deep, blazing red. Everything had flared red when his blade came down, cutting the professor where he stood, red splattering onto his blade and cheeks and engulfing his world in a blinding inferno of Fury. He couldn’t hear a thing after the fire ignited, lost his twisted art, his teeth pulled back, his eyes needled, his hair dripping. He could hear nothing but the faint, squelching sounds of his blade cutting, and cutting, and cutting, and cutting, and cutting—

Only when he turned over his shoulder, sparing a single glance behind him, did he finally let the shredded resemblance of a body crumple.

And that’s when his world has turned to ash.

Absentmindedly, Sephiroth moved his hand to the back of the SOLDIER’s head, peeling his sopping form off the ground, still struggling to speak. Zack’s body was completely crumpled, contorted. It was as if he had tried to get up—to walk…—but had ultimately surrendered to his wounds, not a single Cure anywhere to be seen on him.

Not a single Cure… when Sephiroth had a mastered one.

“No…” Sephiroth finally repeated, this time in a breathy snarl, the poison and hate spearing into nobody but himself. “Please… please, no…” But his voice was quickly whittled down into cold, broken desperation as he brought Zack’s dead body into his lap, struggling to digest his shredded state, cradling him. “Please… Gaia, please… come back…”

His mind roared at him, saying that it was too late, that there was nothing he could do, that not even a Phoenix Down was going to restore a the rhythm of a stagnant heart.

That didn’t stop him from trying.

Hazily, he lowered his head until it was mere inches from Zack’s, his temple pressing against his dear friend’s, stained silver falling against his face.

And his voice cracked.

“Please… please, I’m right here… I’m here now, Zack…”

His only response was an echo of his own words, whispering tauntingly through his mind from months prior.

You’re late.

Teeth gritting, his breath growing jagged, Sephiroth held his friend closer to his palpitating chest, his own heart selfishly hammering against one that would never throb again.

The only one alive amidst a massacre of troops.

“What if… what if they catch up to us…?”

Zack had looked quite small when posing that dangerous, frightening possibility, sheathing his sword with a slight tremor in his arm, sapphire eyes looking up to him in search of comfort. What remained unspoken between them was perfectly clear: Genesis and Angeal had had them to ensure their safety when hounded down, to cement their escape… There would be no one left after this to do the same.

And yet, Sephiroth wasn’t disheartened.

Dismissing his own weapon—the sword he had learned to master more than any other blade—he glided across Lazard’s old office to stand in front of the boy, his green eyes softening as he placed a firm, resolute glove on Zack’s pauldron.

And Zack had looked up at him, blinking with a youth and vulnerability that he had long thought to be smothered.

And he had looked down at Zack, his chest budding with a fondness and instinct that he had never experienced quite before.

And he gave a small, promising smile.

“Then I will protect you.”

Presently, Sephiroth’s hand slipped from his friend’s shoulder, wrapping around the back of his dampened back to hold him close, pressing his shaken expression in Zack’s hair.

“I… I…” Sephiroth nearly retched as he spoke, whispered. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

He didn’t know how long he kneeled there, repeating the words into his friend’s miry hair, unable to stop, unable to forgive himself. Time didn’t matter anymore; it had shattered, splintered into insignificant pieces. All he knew was that they had been close—less than an hour away from Gongaga, Zack had jubilantly alerted him—before the monstrous whir of a helicopter had intervened, had stopped them in their tracks.

Now… now what difference did time make, when they were never going to make it there together?

Sephiroth quivered against his cherished friend, nearly coughing, his throat too dry to even properly breathe anymore. He felt so numb—so utterly, wholly, unbearably numb—and the only thing his body could do was tremble, subdued into quavering silence. He didn’t even realize when it had started raining, the needles of liquid rolling dully off his back like unheard, useless words.

“I’m here… I’m here now…” It was all Sephiroth could manage to say, comforting an empty husk that couldn’t hear his voice, that would never hear his voice ever again. “I’m here…” He couldn’t block out the images, the sounds… The sounds of Zack’s weakened voice crying out to him, realizing he had been fatally wounded, crumbling to the ground… He didn’t know what his last words were, if not an anguished plea for help, trying to break through the inferno to no avail—unable to reach him… Gaia, oh Gaia… he couldn’t even hear his best friend’s voice… And he never would again… He would never hear his laughter, his jokes, his kind, caring comforts that somehow made everything in his cynical okay… He would never again play ludicrous games with him, or spar without rivalry, or look at the stars even when the smog shielded them…

You’ll love Gongaga, bud… You’ll see the stars every night!

Trembling, Sephiroth lifted his gaze, rattling slits looking upwards, searching…

The rain had extinguished every star.

Sopping hair wilted over his face as he looked back down at Zack, watching the rain roll down his cheeks, sending thin streaks of blood down his face like hellish rivers… like tears. Like the tears that he had once cried into his arms shortly after his mission to Modeoheim, when he needed someone close… When Sephiroth had realized for the first time that he was grateful to have him in his life, still by his side…

When Angeal was no longer there to look after him.

Swallowing, Sephiroth hazily glanced at the Buster Sword, only inches away from Zack… completely painted in blood, caked in mud, a distorted reflection of himself rippling in the reddened mirror—only it wasn’t distorted at all; it was the truth, a real reflection, a fact…

Because what kneeled in that reflection, his face masqueraded in spattered crimson, was a Monster.

A Monster…

You’re not like them, pal… Don’t you ever worry about a thing.

His breath hitching, Sephiroth buried his face back into Zack’s hair, holding his best friend close, the bittersweet truth whispering through the air like a ribbon of the Lifestream.

“At least… at least you’re with Angeal now.”

He’ll take better care of you than me…

“Breeeaaaakkkfassst in bed for the greatest Seph in the world…!”

Sephiroth’s eyes snapped open with a strained, serrated gasp, jolting upwards against his bed frame, viciously jerked back into consciousness by the jubilant, ringing voice that had come from—

“Seph?”

—……….the doorway.

For a long, heavy moment, his eyes struggled to digest the world around him, the feline pupils throbbing as they adjusted to the sunlight gushing through the window, to the sight before him…:

The sight of Zack, alive and well, standing in front of his bed, a youthful smile melting off his face as he held a play of bacon, toast, and what suspiciously looked like at an attempt at scramblings eggs.

And Sephiroth’s breath finally began to quell.

“Sorry, bud,” Zack laughed, making his way over to the bedside with his lovely presentation, “didn’t mean to wake you. You just slept real late today, so I thought that I’d surprise you”—he smiled down at the food, placing it on his lap—”taddaaaaah!”

His heart still pulsing, Sephiroth’s eyes floated down to the food, only semi-digesting its presence as he swept a hand over his eyes.

“…Gaia.”

Zack’s smile arched into a gentle frown, noticing his unease. “Hey… you okay?”

“Yes—yes…” Sephiroth peeled his hand from his eyes, letting out a gusty sigh, turning his gaze back to his best friend’s with as much steel as he could muster. “…I’m fine.”

Zack studied his expression a little bit longer, unconvinced… and it was only a matter of seconds before his eyes softened with kind, aching sympathy, realization dawning on him like the early sun.

“…Another nightmare?”

Sephiroth’s lips parted, having half a mind to speak, to protest…

…Before realizing just how futile protesting would be, and responded with a vague dip of his head.

“Yes,” he admitted somberly, almost immediately followed by his best friend’s hand squeezing his bare shoulder.

“…Same nightmare?”

His hair wilting over his eyes, Sephiroth nodded.

…How many times had been now? Three times, four times? He had been plagued with the same horrible dream ever since they had arrived in Gongaga… since Zack’s parents had finished setting up his room for him, since he had stopped sleeping in a sleeping bag by his side. Of course he knew just how childish such a realization was… And the fact that he needed remind himself of what was real and what was his mind’s twisted Hypotheticals.

They had made it to Gongaga, trekking here from Midgar before their scheduled mission to Nibelheim… when he expressed his qualms about ShinRa, that he may desert, and Zack encouraged them to leave together that very night. They had made to the outskirts of the village before the troops had caught up to them… And they had survived—both of them. He hadn’t failed to protect his friend; he hadn’t been lost in anger, swallowed in fire… He hadn’t even been the one to cut Hojo down where he stood.

They had—

“Hey, bud. Look at me.”

Blinking, Sephiroth was brought back to the present by his friend’s soothing voice, lifting his chin, and he gazed into the starry sapphire eyes that no force in the world could ever hope to extinguish.

“…I’m right here, Seph. I’m right here. We made it.”

And as soon as he said it, Sephrioth knew it was true.

“Yes…” he finally allowed himself to smile, bathed in the warm sunlight of his Home. “We made it.”

#ffvii #sephiroth #crisis core #zack fair #ff7 #final fantasy vii #ff7 fanfic #pichu writing #happy ending!#angst #blood #death #angeal hewley #professor hojo

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digital-vic · 1 year

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some white-haired characters i like :3

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sephirthoughts · 3 months

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Father: Verb

Chapter 10: Father, Verb

Summary: 11 year-old WMD Sephiroth is assigned a new handler/bodyguard, named Vincent Valentine.

(prev chapter and ao3 linked at bottom)

rating: teen and up CW: major character death but he has it SO coming

HAPPY FATHER'S DAY HERE IS THE FINAL CHAPTER!!!!!! I SOMEHOW DID IT ON TIME…ISH Thanks to everyone who has commented and supported my story, even though there's no naughty stuff at all! You're the real heroes!!! ♥️⚰️🪽♥️ PS: Stay tuned for the epilogue and a silly side-story!!!

Vincent staggered, clutching his abdomen, where a long, thin blade impaled him, all the way through, sticking out of his back. He stumbled forward, as Sephiroth yanked the sword out. Sephiroth caught him, before he fell, and Vincent leaned heavily on him.

The sword wounds all over his torso were oozing a black, tar-like substance, that must be his blood. The ragged holes in Sephiroth’s chest, torn open by shots from Cerberus, had already begun to knit back together.

“Vincent…do you love me?”

A sea of flames billowed and roared all around them, accompanied by screams and wails, and the muffled thunder of explosions in the distance.

“Yes. I do.”

Sephiroth smiled. A sad, wistful smile, not that deranged one that had been his only facial expression, since he learned the truth of his origins. “You are the only person who ever has.”

“What has…my love…done for you?” Vincent rasped, between labored breaths. “Did it protect you? Did it stop you being tortured and brainwashed, by that monster?”

“No. But it’s not because your love wasn’t strong enough. I know, now, that you were only a chained dog. And that I was the whip your masters used to control you.”

Vincent convulsed and doubled over, coughing up a mouthful of black blood. Sephiroth steadied him on his feet, as he wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand.

“I w—I was going to kill you,” he panted. “Hojo told me you were my son. I was going to kill you, anyway.”

“I know.”

“Your mother…came to me. In my dreams. She showed me…her visions. The world on fire. Millions dead. And you responsible. She begged me to kill you. To save the world. I thought I could. But…then I saw you, face to face. You weren’t a god of destruction or a fallen angel. You were just a little boy. You were my little boy. How could I kill you? How could I not…how could I not fall in love with you, instead?”

“You came to me, in my dreams,” Sephiroth answered. “Before we met. I felt your killing intent, but also your hesitation. And I felt you change. That night when I first asked you, I already knew you loved me. I always suspected that you were my father, especially since the old man was always so insistent that you were not. But…then he showed me the report. Whether or not it was true, I knew it meant that you were gone. It broke me. I shut myself down. Became a compliant machine. Spent ten years convincing myself that I believed you had betrayed me. And yet, there was something always nagging at me. Wherever they sent me, I quietly searched for signs of you. Listened for rumors of your activities or whereabouts. But I never found anything. A few months ago, I used my position to demand access to Shinra’s physical archives and I had a look, for myself. There you were. Your entire career and life, boiled down to a few pages and photographs, in a faded folder. Medals, distinctions, honors…killed in action, in March of 1977. The year I was born.”

“I’m so sorry, Seph,” Vincent shuddered, clenching his teeth against a stab of pain. “I’m sorry that I…that I couldn’t protect you. I wanted to, so badly, I almost made myself believe that I could. But in the end, I failed you. I was never your father.”

“Father, verb: to take responsibility; to care for someone, as a father might,” Sephiroth said, as if by rote. “The act of love that makes one a father need not be any great, heroic deed. It may be something as simple as holding a child’s hand, when he’s afraid. Or teaching him to eat spaghetti.”

Vincent looked up at his son, who had grown into a man, in his absence. The boy who had been only chest-high, when they met, was now a full six inches taller than him, and a good deal broader in the chest and shoulders. A strand of silver hair hung in his seraphic face. Vincent reached up and brushed it back.

Sephiroth grabbed the wrist and dragged him into an embrace, clutching him tightly against his chest; holding him, as he had once been held by him.

“Vincent, you are my father,” he murmured in his ear. “You are my father, and I am not your fault. You did everything you could. But I was born to be a monster. I never had a chance.”

“No!” Vincent said, pulling away. “You are not a monster, Seph. Not until you choose to become one.”

Sephiroth laughed bitterly. “As you can see, I have already chosen.”

“Will it do any good to beg you to stop this? To come away with me, somewhere they can’t find us, and leave all of this behind? The way you always wanted to?”

“It is true. That was all I ever wanted. To have a peaceful life, with you. Such a pretty dream.”

“It’s not too late,” Vincent persisted. “We can have that. We can leave, together, right now, and never look back.”

“It is too late, for me,” Sephiroth sighed, looking out over the blazing inferno he’d made of the once idyllic little town. “But it won’t be too late for him. When we find him, it won’t be too late, anymore. Then, we’ll set all of this right.”

Vincent shook his head, not understanding. “What do you mean? Find who?”

Laying a gloved hand on his cheek, Sephiroth leaned down and pressed his warm lips to Vincent’s, waxen and icy cold. A single, chaste kiss. A punctuation mark, on a lifetime of grief and longing, and love obstructed. A kiss goodbye.

Then his hand dropped from Vincent’s cheek, onto his chest, laying over the place where his heart would be. “I am afraid I need…one last thing from you.”

“Seph, don’t—don’t do this!” Vincent gasped, struggling to wrench himself free, but Sephiroth held him fast. “Please don’t do this, I’m begging you!”

“I’m sorry, father. It’s the only way.”

Sephiroth curled his gloved fingers, and little wisps of pale light began wafting up from Vincent’s chest. Vincent twisted and convulsed in Sephiroth’s iron embrace, roaring with agony, as the white-hot razorblades of pain rent his body apart.

With a sickening, wet, cracking sound, a glowing orb burst through his ribcage, and landed in Sephiroth’s palm. One could see that it had been beautiful, but now it was severely damaged, from being torn forcefully out of his body, and there were stress cracks all over the luminous surface.

Viscous, black tears spilled down Vincent’s white cheeks. “Seph….please.”

Sephiroth closed his gloved fingers around the orb and squeezed. With a blinding flash, it exploded into glittering dust, releasing a shockwave, that fanned the raging flames in the village, and made even Sephiroth stagger.

Vincent’s body went rigid in his arms. Sephiroth watched as it began to warp and twist. Massive wings, black and crimson and membranous, burst out from his shoulder blades. Black blood poured from his mouth, all over Sephiroth’s bare chest, as his teeth lengthened into cruel fangs.

Suddenly unfurling its wings, the demon broke Sephiroth’s hold and threw him off with ease. Its face was still Vincent’s, but its skin was ash grey, and its eyes blazed like twin suns, below the jagged crown of Chaos.

“You dare summon me, bastard whelp of the plague mother,” the creature snarled, in a monstrous, hyper-resonant distortion of Vincent’s voice. “Here I am. Stand forth and be purified.”

Sephiroth extended his arm, holding Masamune out before him, horizontally. The he opened his hand and dropped it into the dirt, between them, with a ringing thud. “Chaos. I will not resist you. The corruption in me runs too deep, to be purified. I have come to surrender myself, and accept your judgement.”

Chaos looked down at the blade, and back up at his face. “Then I shall grant you a quick death.”

In its clawed hand, it held the weapon called Death Penalty. Legend had it that in the creature’s original incarnation, its weapon had been a reaper’s scythe, which would deal death with a single stroke, to any being, god or mortal, that Chaos judged to be guilty.

In its current incarnation, the scythe had taken on the aspect of Vincent’s gun, Cerberus, making itself into a heavy, black hand-cannon, with ornate, silver filigree work, and three massive barrels.

The demon raised its weapon and leveled the barrels at Sephiroth’s face.

Sephiroth smiled and closed his eyes.

The thunderous report split the air, echoing for miles around, as Death Penalty delivered its judgement. Since the accused surrendered willingly, death was clean and instantaneous, leaving no gore or anything so vulgar behind. Only a fine, crimson spray, like mist.

Sephiroth’s headless body fell heavily to the ground, where it lay prone, atop Masamune, in a rapidly spreading pool of crimson blood.

Chaos hovered in the air, observing, as the spirit left the body, and began to slip into the lifestream. At the last moment, the ancient demon heard an echo of laughter, and a cold voice on the wind, speaking strange words, which seemed to hold no particular meaning. And yet, those words would alter the fate of the world.

Chocolate chip cookies.

The same three words the older version whispered to him, before plunging Sephiroth back into the sea of memory, where he experienced the entire sequence of events, up to his death, in a split second, and finally understood what to do.

Vincent staggered, clutching his chest, where the long, thin blade impaled him, all the way through, sticking out of his back. He fell backward, as Sephiroth yanked the sword out, but Sephiroth caught him, and lowered him gently to the ground, cradling him in his lap.

The wounds all over his torso were oozing black, tar-like blood. The ragged slashes in Sephiroth’s face and chest, torn open by the beast’s claws, had already knit themselves back together.

“Vincent…do you love me?”

Dirt and bits of masonry rained down, around them, accompanied by the muffled thunder of explosions, somewhere high above.

Viscous, black tears spilled down Vincent’s white cheeks. “Yes. I do.”

Carefully wiping away the tears, Sephiroth leaned down and pressed his warm lips to Vincent’s, waxen and icy cold. As he did, he laid his hand on the bleeding wound in his chest, over the place where his heart would be.

“I am afraid I still need one thing from you.”

“Seph, don’t—don’t do this,” Vincent murmured. “Please don’t do this, I’m begging you.”

“I’m sorry, father. It’s the only way.”

Sephiroth curled his gloved fingers, and little wisps of pale light began wafting up from Vincent’s chest. He gave a shudder, then his eyes fell closed and he went still in Sephiroth’s embrace, as a glowing orb slipped easily through the extremely precise wound in his ribcage, and landed in Sephiroth’s palm. It was pristine and beautiful, like a galaxy of stars, contained in a snow globe.

“Be careful, you idiot child!” Hojo bellowed, from a few meters behind him. “Don’t play around with that, it’s volatile and extremely valuable!! Give it to me!”

Laying Vincent’s body down carefully, on the rubble-strewn concrete, Sephiroth staggered to his feet and turned around, to stand between him and Hojo, who had approached and held out his hand expectantly.

“You know what this is?” Sephiroth asked, holding the orb up, so that its glimmering light illuminated his dirt-streaked face.

“Yes, yes, of course I do,” Hojo said impatiently. “It’s the protomateria that woman put in the dead dog, to bring him back to life. The only way to kill him is to remove it, so well done. Hurry up and give it to me, before you break it.”

To his annoyance, Sephiroth only laughed. “Ah, is that what she told you? That removing the protomateria would kill him? What a clever woman Lucrecia was, to leave her lover one last insurance policy, against your malice.”

Hojo’s face went red, contorted with sudden fury. “How dare you!! How dare you speak her name with your worthless mouth! That dog was not her lover! She was mine! She was my woman and you are my son! Mine! Not his!!”

“Your jealousy and malice always were your blind spot,” Sephiroth observed, as he absorbed the radiant orb into his palm. “Knowing that you’d want to kill my father, eventually, she left you the ostensible method to do so, scattered through her notes, seemingly unintentional. Which was the only way you’d trust it.”

“What are you yapping about, brat?” Hojo said irritably. “I don’t know where you heard all of this nonsense, but that dog was not your father! I am! I have the legal documentation to prove it. Now, get that materia out of your body and hand it over, before it causes some kind of—”

He broke off and his expression changed. Behind Sephiroth, two enormous, black wings suddenly unfurled. For a moment, it looked as if they belonged to the boy, making Hojo squint and push up his cracked spectacles. Then his eyes went wide.

“No. No, I don’t believe it! The protomateria—how can he be alive?!”

“Were you paying attention to anything I said? Lucrecia tricked you. The protomateria was never keeping him alive.” Sephiroth smiled eerily, as the demon rose into the air behind him, looming over them, wings spread and eyes ablaze. “It was holding him back.”

“Ch—Chaos!” Hojo gasped, stumbling backward and sitting down hard, in the loose rubble. “What have you done, you idiot child! The demon can’t be controlled! It’ll kill us both!!”

“You dare summon me, bastard whelp of the plague mother,” the creature snarled, in a monstrous, hyper-resonant distortion of Vincent’s voice. “Here I am. Stand forth a—”

Sephiroth held up a hand and its voice choked off, strangled in its throat. As he slowly lowered the hand, the demon descended, as if pressed down by some invisible weight, until it was forced to kneel at Sephiroth’s side, eyes blazing with fury, its jagged crown bowed low, till it almost touched the ground.

“Fascinating, fascinating,” Hojo muttered, always the scientist, in spite of himself. “He has the creature under control, using the influence of the protomateria from inside his own body. This is groundbreaking. If we can harness the power of Chaos, it could change everything! Boy! How are you doing that? How did you know to do it?”

Sephiroth turned to him, with an expression of supreme disdain. “Are you aware that you have never once spoken the name you gave me?”

“Ha! The name I gave you, indeed!” Hojo scoffed. “Sephiroth was never a name, it was a project designation. It was only put on your birth certificate because the registry office wouldn’t accept ‘Asset S’. Would you like me to call you that?”

He staggered under this revelation. None of the future versions had known, either. That they never even had a name. For a beat, there was stunned silence in his head.

Hojo sneered, seeing his reaction. “Are you going to cry? Just when I thought you were through disappointing me.”

Sephiroth stepped forward and brought his foot down on Hojo’s shin, snapping the bone like matchwood. Hojo gave a shout and began howling in pain, rolling back and forth in the dirt and debris.

“Are you going to cry?” Sephiroth asked icily. “Just when I thought you were through disappointing me. Chaos, take us to the reactor. It’s time we put an end to this.”

“Th—the reactor?” Hojo sputtered. “What the hell do you want with the reactor! There’s no reason to—AAAAHHH!!”

Hundreds of meters above the deep sub-basement arena, at ground level, Shinra troop transports and helicopters were parked haphazardly about, and uniformed Shinra troops had swarmed the place like ants.

Some had cordoned off the area and were standing guard, keeping all the curious civilians from the town away, some were picking carefully through the blasted remains of Shinra manor, searching for any survivors, and some were guarding the ominously black and yawning elevator shaft, into which the asset had been last seen falling (or jumping, depending on who you asked).

Other units had been sent to recon where the evacuation tunnels surfaced, several kilometers down the road, but since the asset was rumored to possess the ability to fly, it was necessary to guard the elevator shaft as well.

Suddenly, to the immediate discomfiture of the soldiers standing guard, the ground began to buck and rumble, beneath their feet, and a strange sound came echoing up through the shaft.

Before they’d even had time to raise their weapons, an enormous ball of whirling shadows and purple lightning exploded out of the elevator shaft, throwing them all to the ground, before it shot away like a bullet, toward Mt. Nibel, making a strange, nasal wailing as it went.

“What the hell was that!” one of the commanders demanded, of no one in particular.

“It…sounded like Director Hojo, sir,” his second-in-command ventured, earning himself a glare from his superior.

Hojo was still howling and cursing, when Chaos dumped him on the floor, outside the steel doors, deep inside the Nibel reactor, with the word ‘Jenova’ emblazoned above them, like a shop sign.

“Mother, father and I have come for you,” Sephiroth said, spreading his arms. “Open the way for us.”

There were a few beats in which nothing happened.

“It seems mother is not eager to see us. Father, if you would.”

Chaos stuck its claws through the blast doors like they were made of tinfoil, and ripped them out of the frame, letting them fall crumpled and torn, to the floor. Then he and Sephiroth strode into the dark chamber, full of huge, black pipes connected to a brightly glowing tank. There was a metal figure mounted on a pedestal in front of it, attached to winglike protrusions of tubes on both sides, so that it looked like a grotesque sculpture of an angel.

“What do you think you’re doing! You can’t go in there!” Hojo shrieked, crawling after them, dragging his broken leg behind him.

“Chaos. Here is your old enemy,” Sephiroth said to the demon. “You are the only one who can truly destroy her, and erase her foul legacy from this world.”

“No! Stop it this instant, boy!!” Hojo roared from behind them. “You’ve had your tantrum, now this is going too far! You have no idea what you’re doing!!”

Sephiroth hopped down from the pipe he and Chaos hand been standing on, and dragged Hojo up, holding his jaw and forcing him to look up at the tank.

Chaos ripped the metal figure off the mounting and tossed it away, revealing the mutilated creature in the tank; half humanoid, with bizarre, calcified protrusions, and mottled, rotted hide. There was a mechanical apparatus on its head and a huge tube sticking out of its torso. Its dead face only resembled Sephiroth’s by four parts out of ten, but its long, silver hair made the resemblance seem far more pronounced.

“Witness the end of this ancient monstrosity,” Sephiroth said to Hojo. “Witness the end of all the suffering you have caused. At the hands of the man you murdered, and the child you destroyed.”

Chaos drew the Death Penalty and fired a slow-moving ball of purple-black plasma, that struck the tank and exploded the thick glass, sucking everything into a roiling mass of darkness, with a roar like a jet engine, as matter was obliterated, faster than air could rushed in to fill the vacuum.

That was it. A few seconds, and it was done. The dark mass collapsed on itself, taking the creature they had called Jenova with it. Total annihilation, leaving only a cleanly empty space, inside the shattered tank. Hojo cursed and raged, beating Sephiroth with his gnarled fists, to no avail.

Chaos floated down from the scene of Jenova’s demise and alit in front of them.

“So, it is done. We should leave this place, quickly. The reactor is unstable, without her, and will melt down soon.” Sephiroth’s glowing, green eyes turned on Hojo. “But first, I will deal with him. Hold him.”

“W—what do you think you’re doing now!” Hojo demanded, as Chaos took him by the arms and held him upright, in front of Sephiroth. “You can’t kill me! Shinra will never let you go! They’ll hunt you to the ends of the earth, you stupid brat!!”

“Kill you?” Sephiroth’s silver eyebrows went up. “Death is too good for you. You deserve to be mutilated and crippled, to lose everything you have ever cared about, and to live on, in misery and hopelessness, till decrepitude and disease waste your pitiful body, and you die wretched and alone, vainly clinging to the life that is so hateful to you.”

Hojo glared at him, baring his teeth fiercely, but failing to entirely conceal the trembling of his body, in fear of the cruel and coldblooded young monster he’d raised, with his own hands.

“However,” Sephiroth said, drawing Masamune from thin air. “There is no telling what schemes you might cook up, to escape punishment and make others suffer, if you’re allowed to live, and I don’t think tormenting you is worth risking another innocent person’s pain.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice to a gentle register, stroking the old man’s weathered cheek, in a mockery of tenderness. “You’re just…not all that important, to me.”

“You imp!” Hojo roared. “You ungrateful, worthless, spawn of that scheming bitch and her—”

There was a flicker of light, and Hojo’s voice cut off, mid harangue, as if someone had flipped a switch. His mouth hung open and his eyes went wide, in an odd expression of perplexity and surprise.

Then his head slid neatly from his neck and bounced across the floor, rolling to stop, a few meters away. The cracked spectacles sat somewhat askew on his face, before his dead, unseeing eyes, forever frozen in that puzzled expression. It was a rather ridiculous end, to the life of a man who had brought so many other lives to ruin and desolation.

Chaos tossed the body aside, and stood looking down at Sephiroth, with its blazing, yellow eyes, fangs visible between its parted, grey lips.

“I know. There is still a remnant of her,” Sephiroth said, with a rueful smile. “A fragment of her will, which she attached to one of my other versions, before he died. It mimics our voice and pretends to be one of us, but she overreached. I knew it was her, the moment she urged us to kill you. With that piece of her will, and her cells in my body, she could rebuild herself in me, and make me her vessel. You must purify me. That is the only way to truly rewrite destiny, and change the fate of this world.” He laid his hand on his heart. “I am the variable. I always was.”

The Death Penalty appeared again, in the clawed hand of Chaos.

“When I’m dead, the protomateria will return to you, on its own. I’m sorry I took it by force, father. I couldn’t let you be in control. You’d never be able to kill me. I’m sorry you’ll remember my death, but there’s no other way. No one else can do it. Here.”

Dashing away the tears that had begun rolling down his face yet again, despite the fact he never cried, he drew out his locket, which he pulled off his neck and put into Chaos’ other hand.

“My mother’s body is in a cave just southwest of here, crystallized in mako. Go and visit her, for me. Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t come see her. Tell her you did what she asked, and that she can rest in peace, now. The cycle of bloodshed and destruction ends here. With me. The future will be a clean slate, now. Whatever happens to this world, everyone will be free to write their own destiny, without the interference of gods and monsters.”

Alarm klaxons began blaring outside the chamber, along with a mechanical voice announcing an imminent meltdown, and advising all staff to evacuate promptly. Amber emergency lights could be seen flashing in a rotating pattern, through the torn open doorway.

“Well. I suppose it’s time,” Sephiroth sighed. “Chaos, I am ready to accept your judgment. Purify me.”

Chaos raised the Death Penalty, leveling the massive, triple barrel at the child’s dirt and tear-streaked, but still divinely beautiful face.

Sephiroth smiled and closed his eyes. “Chocolate chip cookies.”

There was a loud, echoing bang, in the Jenova chamber. But it wasn’t the obliterating thunder of the weapon of Chaos, he’d experienced when his other self died.

Sephiroth’s eyes snapped open, to see the Death Penalty lying on the floor, where it had fallen, then he gave a startled cry, as a huge, clawed hand took him by the throat.

Chaos dragged him close, baring its long fangs. A thick, purple-black miasma poured from its maw like heavy smoke, and entered Sephiroth’s mouth and nose and eyes. He didn’t have time to wonder what was happening, before soul-rending agony was threshing his insides, shredding his muscle and sinew and bone, ripping his body apart, cell by cell.

He felt his consciousness depart the material world, and slip into a place he knew well, from the memories of his future selves. The Edge of Creation. Before him, stood all his older versions, in a protective ring, surrounding one—the false self, that was the will of the creature called Jenova.

The nihility of Chaos burst in and raged like a storm around them, tearing out the will of Jenova by its roots, while it clung to the child’s body in animal desperation, determined to save itself, or drag him with it, into annihilation.

But for all its power and cunning, it was just a primitive beast, and a multitude of Sephiroths—an army of himself—had it caged within their superior will. In the end, all it could do was scream and howl in wordless fury, over losing the game it had played for tens of millennia, as its old enemy finally devoured it.

The older version from eleven years in the future turned to him and smiled, then gave him an abrupt, hard shove, sending him plummeting backward into a dark vortex of pain and confusion. But at the end of that black tunnel of madness and anguish, Sephiroth came out, alive and intact.

Almost intact. He was missing something essential, the loss of which he could feel keenly, a hollow ache, in his whole being. He was alone, he realized. Jenova was gone—not only its will from his mind, but all its corrupt cells from his body, as well.

His other selves were silent, because they had never existed, now. Fate had been changed. Destiny had been rewritten. And yet, he was alive.

In his bewilderment, he became gradually aware of another voice, calling to him, from outside himself.

“Seph! Seph, are you alright?” It was still the resonant, inhuman rasp of Chaos, but it was also Vincent’s voice. Sephiroth looked up into the demon’s molten-gold eyes.

“F—father,” he faltered, through choking tears. “Why am I alive? What happened?”

“Chaos purified you, just as you asked. I saw…but I won’t ask. You can tell me, when you are ready.”

“But you’re still Chaos. How are you…you?”

“Because you have my heart,” Vincent said, laying a clawed hand on the boy’s chest. “Keep it with you, from now on. You are a better protector of it, than I ever was.”

Vincent lifted him in his arms, and Sephiroth buried his face in his father’s chest, not the slightest bit repulsed by his twisted, monstrous form, and broke down into deep, racking sobs, as if making up for all the years of stifled grief and tearless suffering, all at once. Finally, worn out with weeping, and with the tremendous strain of the literal world-changing events of the day, the boy passed out, with his silver head on his father’s shoulder.

Late that night, amidst the canopy of twinkling stars, Vincent slowed his flight and looked out over the world far below. He was free. Finally free. Of Shinra, of Hojo, of Chaos, and most importantly, of the chains of guilt and self loathing, that had kept him paralyzed and submissive—only a passive participant in his own life, for so many years.

“I didn’t do what you asked,” he said softly, looking back the way they’d come. “But I think you knew I never could. I’ll take care of him, for you. And I’ll never let anyone hurt him, again. You can rest in peace, now.”

Wrapping his arms more tightly around his sleeping son, he pressed a kiss to his silver hair, then spread his magnificent demonic wings, and soared away, into the boundless, starlit sky.

SHINRA INTERNAL MEMO DATE: Oct. 14, 19XX DEPARTMENT: Public Security Division SENDER: Head of Department of Administrative Research RECIPIENT: President Shinra SUBJECT: SHINRA MANOR AND NIBELHEIM REACTOR INCIDENTS Mr. President, I have received your orders to expedite this investigation, and am taking all necessary steps to do so. Remains of Director Hojo and Asset S have yet to be recovered, but both are presumed dead. Preserved remains of the JENOVA life form have not been located, due to the high contamination levels at the site, but recovery appears unlikely, given the thoroughness of the destruction, caused by the uncontrolled fusion reaction in the mako core. If I may be frank, sir, we are looking at one hell of a mess, over here. The reactor meltdown was contained within the sub-levels, by an unknown magnetic field anomaly, which the science folks are calling an ‘act of god,’ without a hint of irony. The outer structure is sound, but the whole thing will have to be gutted and rebuilt. Whether it’s worth the cost, is up to yourself and the board. Regarding Shinra Manor, human casualties are estimated in the hundreds, including military and civilian personnel. The few witnesses left alive claim the fourteen-year-old asset went berserk and destroyed the Manor, singlehandedly. Shinra troops responding to the distress call witnessed the asset leaping down the elevator shaft, as they arrived. Evacuated manor personnel also attest to Director Hojo’s presence in the sub-basement emergency shelter, shortly before the entire sub-structure collapsed, burying him, the asset and whatever else he was keeping down there, under thousands of tons of rock. The logistics people estimate it’ll take years to excavate and sort through. In my professional opinion, the reactor and manor are a total loss. Recommend disposing of remaining eye-witnesses, disseminating official version of events through the usual channels, nominal compensation to Nibelheim residents, and standard relocation packages to local reactor employees. Regarding former Special Security Agent Vincent Valentine: it is the opinion of this agency that he poses no material threat to Shinra or its interests. We will be keeping an eye on him, from time to time, just in case. —Veld

THE AUTHOR HAS SOMETHING TO SAY VELD CAMEO FOR THE NERDS!!!

prev chapter:

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salternateunreality2 · 5 months

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You Said Forever - White

Hojo shows up.

#ff7 #sephiroth #genesis rhapsodos #angeal hewley #die hojo die #agszc #zack fair #cloud strife #fuck hojo #not literally lucrecia pull yourself together #hojo can go sit on a cactus #death to hojo #hojo does get somewhat of a tan in this chapter

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voidparadoxical · 3 months

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Uhhh I love drawing these two

And also love drawing them in whumps 🫡🙃

They are literally my comfort characters and I relate too hard to them (emotionally, you know; that and some things from Mighty Novel X that hit home).

TW //

- Implied death and disappearing

- Blood

#kamen rider ex aid #ex aid #emu hojo #parado #emu and parado #whump #tw blood #tw death #i love these two i promise #angst #heavy angst #parado has too many emotions now I swear #can go along with a couple of my fics on ao3 or as stand alone art #sorry for being depressing #sorry not sorry #vent art

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yinza · 2 years

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A couple more pieces for the "Lucrecia is locked in the basement instead of Vincent" AU. She is not fucking around.

[Image Description: Two rough digital paintings featuring Lucrecia and Hojo. In the first, the back of Hojo's head and shoulders are in the foreground, his left hand raised in alarm as he falls backwards. Lucrecia stands before him, and blood spurts from his throat from where the metal claws of her left hand have just slashed it open. The image cuts off just above her eyes, which look down on him in disgust.

In the second image, Hojo sits slumped against the large specimen tank in the 68th floor of his lab. Blood stains his neck and clothing. Lucrecia stands with her back to the viewer, looking down on him as she holds his bloody ID badge in her clawed left hand. Both images are cast in green hues, with the exception of a bright red for the blood and Lucrecia's eyes and earrings. /end ID]

#lucrecia crescent #professor hojo #final fantasy vii #ff7 #ff7 og #yinza's artwork #artists on tumblr #fanart #blood #death #murder #boy do I prefer the 'legacy' post editor but okay

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edogawa-division · 1 year

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ヒプノシスマイク -Rhyme Anima- (Fatal Four Ver.)

In honor of Season 2 premiering soon here's this!

Bring the Beat!

[Wicked Requiem:]

Wicked Requiem!

[Yuriko:]

I'll only say this once to any enemies who appear

Dare threaten my family, and the only thing left of you will be a bloody smear

[Kaoru:]

Think you can hide your secrets from me?

Oh, please! Nothing can be hidden from my sight!

[Kanra:]

With the face of an angel and the rage of a devil

Try your luck, I’m just itching for a fight

[Silent Tragedy:]

Silent Tragedy!

[Kanon:]

How amusing, scurrying around my lab like rats

You won't get very far, I can assure you of that

[Reika:]

A girl can get used to this, you know?

The feeling of having the world in the palm of your hands

[Sakura:]

A blood-stained crown rests on my brow

Who are you to give me a command?

[Death Row Block:]

Death Row Block!

[Akihisa:]

Call it a desire for vengeance and strife

But I still have more to do before heading to the afterlife

[Touya:]

Think you can leave me all alone?

Just for that, I’ll make sure to give your throat a slash

[Rintaro:]

What a pretty picture-perfect life you live

Makes me want to burn it all to ash!

[Valor Guard:]

Valor Guard!

[Seiji:]

Tough as steel and stronger than any shield

Even against the entire world, I will never yield!

[Lyall:]

For those who commit the worst of crimes

I’ll see you judged by Anubis the Jackal!

[Ayumu:]

The life of a medic isn't for the faint of heart

You’ll find that it's a constant uphill battle!

[Fatal Four:]

Hypnosis action ends corruption

Lyrics that kick away verses

Nautilus diving into your mind

Attacking by surprise, ignition!

Beyond this endless game

Even if the world ends

We'll continue to fight

At the Division Rap Battle!

[Wicked Requiem:]

Deadly song!

[Yuriko:]

I can see it in your eyes that you’re afraid

Fear not I’ll sing your final serenade

[Kaoru:]

Even if I pray to the Muses for guidance

It's to the goddess Athena whom I dedicate my win

[Kanra:]

Inhumanly born from the deepest pits of hell

The masses would call my existence a sin

[Silent Tragedy:]

Fierce blade!

[Kanon:]

Begging for mercy from a maniac?

Fool, my heart has long since turned pitch black

[Reika:]

How can you say I'm horrible for being evil?

At least I do it with stone-cold style

[Sakura:]

Locked and loaded with my finger on the trigger

I'll gladly put a bullet in your head with a smile

[Death Row Block:]

Execution!

[Akihisa:]

Opposing us is the quickest way to die

Perhaps you ought to say your final goodbyes

[Touya:]

Just the sight of you gets me all hot and bothered

Come on, let's go a few rounds

[Rintaro:]

Think you can run the fuck away?

I’m hot on your heels like a hellhound!

[Valor Guard:]

Duty bound!

[Seiji:]

A warning for all there is very little I fear

Especially when dealing with threats to all I hold dear

[Lyall:]

With eyes that see everything like an owl

I’ll catch you even during the darkest nights

[Ayumu:]

Even when everyone else has long given up

I'll keep on going with all my might

[Fatal Four:]

Hypnosis action ends corruption

Gimmicks that burn synapses

Nobody can stop this now

Ignition!

Now we invite you to catharsis

Rhyming all over the place

Carving into history

With this Division Rap Battle!

[Kaoru:]

Mind racing faster than you can comprehend

Even now it's plotting your bitter end!

[Reika:]

Even decked out head to toe in jewels

I’ll destroy anyone who tries to overthrow my rule!

[Touya:]

Seems like you’re someone no one will miss

How about I seal your fate with a kiss?

[Lyall:]

Hidden like the dark side of the moon

Your doom approaches soon!

[Kanra:]

I’m quick to anger and, with my strength enough said

So careful, or else you’ll end up dead!

[Sakura:]

Don't even think about trying to be brave

You'll only just dig your own grave!

[Rintaro:]

A battle between divisions, call it a nuclear winter!

Leaving nothing but ash and cinder!

[Ayumu:]

I might be here to heal

But that doesn't mean I'll kneel!

[Yuriko:]

That's it I’m done playing nice

It's time I leave you in agonizing pain!

[Kanon:]

A verbal barrage rains upon the psyche

Let's see you undo the damage to your brain!

[Akihisa:]

This is our reality now

One where words have all the power!

[Seiji:]

Opponents stand all around

The Division Rap Battles are no place to cower!

[Fatal Four:]

Hypnosis action ends corruption

Lyrics that kick away verses

The Nautilus dives, invading the brain

Ignition!

Even if what results from this endless game

Is the end of the world

We'll keep resisting

With this Division Rap Battle!

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swallowtail-ageha · 5 months

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Almost... finished... watching... the og ff7 letsplay... on... youtube..m

#now you shall ask me. sara! but the gameplay is 21 hours long! how can you do that?#and i shall reply: the x2 and skipping button are wond'rous things #ofc i only skipped battles not. actual parts of the story #bit disappointed in how quickly they moved on from aerith's death tho like. yeah they buried her and then theyre all fine n dandy #ofc ill expect it to return later but? idk? too quick for my taste #i hope that in the remake they draw it more out #also what the hell is wrong with hojo (affectionate <33)

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holly-fixation · 1 year

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The Last Straw

Summary: After Angeal’s death, Sephiroth finds a baby in the labs with silver hair and cat-like eyes. He immediately knows it's his. He takes the child and runs out of Shinra, but he didn’t know what Hojo did to her. Through defects he did not know or understand, his child dies in his arms despite every attempt to save her. The era of mommy issues is over. He will tear the Lifestream apart to save her at any cost.

Inspired by this post by @altocat with many of my own twists.

Please enjoy.

…

The low hum of the bountiful monitors and lights lulled throughout the lab as always. The sounds, the smell, even the slightest taste in the air all forced horrid memories into the Silver Soldier’s mind. It was exam day: the worst day of the month. His year long deployments to Wutai and the slaughter they came with were butterfly kisses compared to this single windowless laboratory.

He hated this place. He hated every caged monster for the suffering they continued to endure. He hated each glowing tank of mako for their silent threat to enter. He hated the cells he prayed stayed unoccupied to protect others from the hell he endured. He hated the noise of monsters whimpering and growling and yelping and crying-

Despite his wince, he focused his ears. Crying? That crying wasn’t animalistic. Those cries were small and…human. They had to be. Sephiroth scowled. Hojo’s lack of restraint boiled his blood. That scientist that raised him and controlled the entire department did whatever he pleased. ‘Unethical’ did not scratch the surface of what his experiments covered. Even the Silver Soldier knew this suffering was wrong, especially on another human.

He didn’t know why that specific call lured him over to the observation window through one way glass of the cells. He usually ignored every creature trapped within like the plague, avoiding any returning memories they came with like his life depended on it. He just needed to make it through the exam, so what was he searching for the source of the conspicuous sounds?

Why was he looking into a baby’s room?

Really it looked the same as every other cell in this block except for the crib where the bed should be. The walls were plain white. The floor was tile with a single black rug covering a small section of it. A desk full of reports and results sat well loved in the corner, but clearly not by the cell’s owner.

It was a baby, the source of the cries. A human baby. A baby that barely scraped a few months old. She was so small, so scared, so fragile, so alone. Scabs and bandages decorated her reaching chubby arms. She was calling out for something. She probably didn’t know what. Her hair was silver, and when she opened her eyes between her wails, her irises were catlike, sky blue and mako green. Hojo already threw this baby in a mako tank. She was far too young to have that slightest ring of mako around her eyes. A tank would kill her. Perhaps it was a single dunk, but it was only the beginning.

Something about the look in her eyes ensnared his attention. She wanted to be out. She wanted to be free. She wanted safety. Attention. Care. …love. She wanted sunlight and rain and color and every other basic joy she was denied by her caretaker. All of which he was denied as well.

She cried for help, but nobody came. No one. He cried for much longer than her age, desperately reaching for the same amenities to no avail.

She didn't deserve it.

No one deserved it.

His only friends were a traitor and a deadman. He was alone too.

Silver hair and mako eyes.

Silver hair and once blue eyes.

Silver hair and inhuman eyes, just as alone as him.

His mind snapped the truth into place. The invasive, disgusting, boundary breaking truth of what this child was. Who this child was. Whose child it was. That bastard. Hojo deserved death by a thousand suns for this, but that wouldn’t protect her. Shinra would just replace Hojo with another scientist to do the exact same testing, training, molding, forming her into a hardened soldier even before her teenage years.

Just. Like. Him.

Every instinct downed his rational thoughts. He couldn’t let it happen. Not to her too. His body moved long before his mind caught up. He only remembered vague details of their escape, of broken glass, of wrapping the child in her blanket, of rushing through Shinra security forces with everything he had. Not a single soldier or security officer died during his escape. However, the lab technicians and orderlies that threatened him and the girl were not as lucky, not with the memories they reflected into Sephiroth's mind.

* * *

She was so small. So… cute. She always watched him with such undying adoration. He never expected to care about her this much. Yes he wanted to protect her, but this feeling was far more than he bargained for. He didn't know how quickly these assumed 'parental instincts' would kick in. He petted her hair and she nuzzled against him. He offered his hand and she grabbed it tightly. When he pulled, she pulled back with bubbly giggles, always thinking it was a game. He spoke to her, and she occasionally called him 'Dada'. Her smile always infected him with relief. The little things she did, good and bad, only made him care more. He needed to protect her. He wanted her to love him even if he could not return the phrase himself. He wanted them to be connected, to have an unbreakable parent-child bond.

He wanted her to have what he could only dream of with his mother, so he named her Jen. She responded so quickly to the single syllable that he couldn't change it even if he wanted to. Not like he tried to. Bigger problems constantly took priority.

The army, the Turks, every division of peacekeeping at Shinra’s disposal hunted him like a criminal despite his aversion to combat. Did the army even know why he left? Why he didn’t have a choice? He refused to kill any member of any taskforce. He wanted Jen to grow up without death around her. He couldn’t spend more than fifteen minutes in any town on the planet before Shinra surrounded him, but he couldn’t hide out in the wilderness entirely with Jen. He needed to learn how to raise a child, trying to limit himself to one parenting book per town, and she needed bottles, baby food, and blankets. Gods so much food and so many blankets.

Less than a week after the escape, she was lighter. He felt it. Slightly but enough. At first he thought it was just the stress of her new life outdoors, but she kept losing weight even when she clearly ate her fill. She was too cold and far too weak for her age. He couldn’t put her down. She needed every ounce of warmth his body provided.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t slow her weight loss. She was starving to death, but he had no idea why or how. Suddenly he purchased every resource he could get his hands on, yet most remedies were only for nursing mothers. The few strategies he could find didn’t make a dent in her degradation. He fed her every hour, and she ate every drop of the meals even past her own fill. He saw the strain on her face as his baby forced herself to finish the portion simply because he told her to. Jen’s behavior matched nothing he found about children her age, already infected by the lab to be obedient for results. He tried skin to skin contact while feeding her, but all that did was warm his heart under the weight of the knife growing closer. So few solutions applied, he had no idea what to do.

He even risked taking her to a doctor in Costa del Sol, a spot he knew crawled with Shinra guards, but only Shinra run cities had the technology to define the problem and hopefully save his child. Some gods must have smiled on him that day. Not only did the doctor not call him into the authorities, they took a blood sample from Jen and told him to return in a single week. Seven days later, the doctor slipped him the results in a sealed envelope. He was barely in the city for a minute.

The results: Malabsorption. Severe malnutrition due to improper nutrients. The solution: find something to make her gain weight, and fast. She’s lucky to have a few weeks left.

‘Left’? ‘Left’? Sephiroth denied the final diagnosis with everything he had. He couldn’t let that happen. He did this to save her. He did this to help her. She couldn’t… She couldn’t… not now. Please, please gods no. Don’t let this happen. He fed her every concentrated vitamin meal he could find, milkshake-like textures forced down her raw throat. Jen reached with everything she had whenever he gave her the next meal. She knew she needed it too, she had to. Blends of fruit, protein, vegetables, carbs, anything he could get his hands on he tried to use. He tried.

But he failed.

“Dada…” Jen called again, her voice barely audible above her breath, and he squeezed her tightly against him. She was so cold. So weak. So skinny her bones poked into both his and her own body. He couldn’t even see the veins in her arms, a symptom he knew could come from severe dehydration but she already drank far too much water.

“I’m here… I'm still here…” He spoke softly, tightening her body against his bare chest to transfer as much heat as possible. He'd give her all of it if he could, drain his entire body to a freezing death just to insure she didn't… She winced a bit at the pressure, but her body shivered.

“Dada…” Each syllable was slow, like she was dragging a heavy weight just to push them out to her father.

He pet her head of silver hair and tried to move her loser to the fire, silently begging Ifrit himself to keep her heart warm and beating. He didn't care about the smoke giving away their location. He just needed her okay again. Please. “I have you… You're safe…”

“Da…da…” Slower, languid and strained. Her mako blue eyes were already pale, but he watched something more fade from them. He couldn't look away. He didn't want her to feel alone.

“Jen, please… I'm here…” He felt his throat hitch despite his incomparable strength. It was all worthless. All of his strength was worthless if he couldn't stop this. “I have you… I have you…”

“Da…” She never stopped staring at him.

“Jen…”

“...” A moment passed. He prayed she was just gathering the strength to speak.

“Jen…”

“...” Again, silence.

“Jen…?”

Her eyes didn't move or spark with that small twinkle like they did every time he called her name. The slightest warmth she did emit already began to cool. He stared in agony as the mako in her irises fizzled and the green streaks of the Lifestream, her Lifestream, fell from her hands, then arms, then her entire body, draining into the dirt below and returning to the planet. Her soul. He used every breath in his body to keep that glow in her eyes.

But he failed.

The first time in his life he tried to save someone from his fate. The one time he truly desired victory rather than given the order to procure it. The one time he does something right for someone. Not the company. Not his army. Not the lab constantly itching for results.

He did this for her. He did this to save her. He did this to protect her, so she could be happy. So he could… so those three words could finally leave his lips.

He loved her. But he never told her.

She never got the life he wanted her to have. She spent her final weeks starving with an overstuffed stomach. She suffered in the lab. She suffered in his arms. He'd never see her smile or hear her voice again. She was dead.

She was dead and she wasn't coming back.

She died as a fugitive in the arms of her traitorous father.

She died cold and desperate.

She died sad.

She died alone.

No… NO!

Sephiroth screamed. Not a scream of pain. Not a scream of anger. Not a scream of acceptance. He screamed in anguish, tears he didn't know he was capable of forming flowed down his desert dry cheeks. The scream came from deep in his soul and carried for miles, a shockwave that shook all fauna out of the forest. He wrapped her tighter and nearly crushed her brittle bones against his chest as he tried to will her soul back into her body.

His baby.

His wants his baby.

His needs his baby!

He couldn't let her leave. He couldn't let her die. She needed the life he promised, of happiness and few worries. Of existence without the looming threat of the lab calling her in for testing whenever they pleased. A good life. And despite the fact that death already claimed her, he swore to find the reaper and rip her from its clutches.

The Lifestream was tangible. The Lifestream carried the afterlife. He needed to pull her out of it, to save her soul and tear the planet apart if that’s what it took to find her.

His screaming stopped long ago, but how long was he sobbing? The tears in his eyes dried as he looked to the fire with determination. Someone had to have an answer. Something had to make an answer, even if it was himself. He wrapped her body in her favorite blanket, her eyes still open because one day she would use them again. He was sure of it. He took a longer blanket and used it to strap her to his back in a protective sash.

Just as he finished with his pathetic preservation of her corpse, the ever-present soldiers that followed the smoke found him.

He wasn’t holding back anymore. He couldn’t hold back anymore. Not without her.

Everything in even the slightest shred of his way will die.

* * *

He was a hurricane. A cyclone. A monsoon. He was Death to every village he entered, no matter how many villagers survived. Some towns were foolish enough to defend themselves. They died in a bloody slaughter far worse than Wutai ever saw. He needed answers. He needed a solution. He needed to pull her out. Nothing else mattered, not his well being or theirs. If they just stayed out of his way, he wouldn't attack, but Shinra branded him an enemy. Who were they to deny Shinra's claims?

He didn't want to kill, but he didn't have time for negotiations.

Even the smallest of towns had places to store information. He eliminated anyone who dared approach as he entered these libraries. He read decades, centuries worth of knowledge regarding the Lifestream and the afterlife. Anything even remotely referencing the afterlife claimed all of his attention.

Planetology itself warned him of his time limit. He didn't know how much time he had before her soul was diluted completely by the Lifestream, becoming one with the planet at the cost of herself. Just another soul to keep the circle of life spinning. Another soul to be filtered through mako refinement.

Mako reactors severely sped up the dilution. He needed to destroy each and every one if he couldn't find a solution soon.

Papers and research notes written by madmen particularly interested him. He couldn't care less about the search for eternal life, the elixirs of mako and phenix downs and whatnot to restore a heartbeat within the moment of death's embrace. He found the notes of men just like him, men who lost spouses, parents, children, siblings. Men who reached for the same goal, but they all came to the same conclusion:

The Lifestream is too vast. There’s not enough time to find a single soul within it before it succumbs to the will of the planet. Ancient texts claim the will of the soul can keep it separate if it is powerful enough, but even that strength is on a time limit. If you’re reading this, save your breath and save your time. Either move on or kill yourself. Nothing can bring them back.

Even the craziest and the most obsessed came to the same result with only different words and phrases. Every one of them agreed that the Lifestream’s physical existence was nothing more than a cruel joke, not a tool to be used.

They were all cowards that should have pushed harder.

Shinra’s offensive measures only served as mild annoyances throughout his search. Ambushes he saw coming, lines of soldiers prepared to take him down, Third Classes that had absolutely no idea what he was truly capable of. No one in Shinra knew exactly how strong he was. For years he didn’t either. Yet none of the company’s suicide orders ceased.

A week after his baby’s death, the puppy of his dead friend found him on his way to the next town. Not a literal dog, his friend’s old apprentice, sans SOLDIER uniform but donning the armor and his friend’s blade.

“Sephiroth?” The boy couldn’t believe his eyes, that the fallen Silver Soldier stood before him. His hands twitched to grab the hilt of his own sword. “Is that you?”

The worried expression on the boy's face clashed with his memory of friendly smiles, of child-like curiosity, of innocence burning before his very eyes. He kept his march forward, but he turned his gaze away. He didn't want any more memories right now. That innocence was too familiar. “You need to leave, Zack.”

When the older man made no attempt to attack, Zack hesitantly dropped a bit of his guard. The black haired boy shook his head quickly as Sephiroth passed him, stumbling to catch up to the ex-First Class SOLDIER. “Why are you killing innocent people? What happened to you?! You look terrible!”

Did he? He hadn’t bothered to worry about himself. He didn’t have enough time. His uniform held dried blood and grime in every seam and his unkempt hair nearly rivaled Zack’s, but his voice was just as strong. “You need to leave.”

“When they said you abandoned Shinra, I left too,” Zack continued, trying to get an honest reaction out of the usually emotionless soldier. “I figured you went with Genesis, and… I had my own doubts about Shinra for a while.”

He sneered, his lip curling in contempt as he cut the boy off, “What do you want?”

Zack stumbled to explain, “Well now I don’t know what the hell’s going on. Sephiroth, why are you killing townspeople?”

“I don’t have time.”

“To explain? Really? Look I won’t slow you down but what happened?”

“Zack. You need to leave.”

“Can you just answer a single question? Why does no one tell me anything?!”

“Zack.”

“You can't shut me out like this! Why did you leave Shinra?”

“Hojo.”

“No shit. What did he do?”

That single curse took him off guard. He never heard the puppy curse before. It felt wrong. It felt like blasphemy. “He crossed a line.”

Zack didn’t stop pushing. “He’s pushed a thousand lines. Which one?”

His head fell and his inhuman eyes landed on the blanket sashed around his chest.

“Sephiroth, please. What test was it? What experiment? What! Happened?!” The boy shouted in confusion, not in anger, not in frustration. The boy desperately wanted to believe the soldier could be saved.

Sephiroth stopped dead in his tracks, and Zack nearly tripped at the sudden change. He carefully untied the knots of the blanket and adjusted the weight. Zack didn’t understand why his touch was so delicate until he peeled open the cloth, revealing the baby inside.

She was rotting. Her body was rotting. Her skin wasn't pale like his anymore. It was blue and full of sour craters. Her cat-like eyes faded from blue to white. Her hair was the same, but her bones were broken far beyond repair even if she was alive. She was a crumpled pile of broken flesh, all due to the recklessness with which he hunted for answers.

…It wasn't Jen anymore. It was just a body.

Zack couldn’t help but look between the man and the child. It didn’t take long to make the connection, but he didn’t understand Sephiroth’s slaughters.

“...I need her…” That was the only explanation given.

The boy looked up to him with concern and care, the expression the equivalent of heartbroken adoration she used to look at him with. “Sephiroth…”

He tightened his hold.

“This needs to- This needs to stop… She needs to be buried… This isn’t good for you… She’s not coming back…” He took a painful breath. “Please…”

His inhuman eyes closed. Why did Zack’s innocent weakness hurt him so much? Why did the boy remind him of her?

The boy waited for an answer, but even with closed eyes Sephiroth knew the apprentice stood at the ready in case he snapped.

“Just keep her in her blanket…” He choked out each word. Zack could barely recognize his voice. He sounded like a child, denying the reality before him. “She’s always so cold…”

So they did. They dug a grave right there in the plains of the western continent. Sephiroth was unnaturally calm as he lowered the body in, keeping every inch of her wrapped in soft and fluffy fabrics. Together they scooped each layer of dirt until barely a lump of brown remained over her body. Yet as Zack gave him a moment of silence to contemplate what they had done, what he had done, he knocked the boy unconscious.

Jen’s body was ruined. He couldn’t have her come back to that. He wanted her to live perfectly when she returned. What remained of that body couldn’t hold her innocent soul. He needed to find or create a replacement. He had no idea where to look, but… preserving her soul came first. He swore he would save her. This couldn’t hold him back.

* * *

Four days passed. Eleven days since her death. Eleven days since she began to dissolve into the planet. No one knew how long it took before souls became part of the hivemind of the planet. But Jen was just a baby. Whatever that average time span was, hers was halved. Maximum.

What could he do?

What can he do?

He kept searching, kept his trek through any place with intelligent life. Shinra actually backed off with parts of the army, letting him through without death. He traveled most of the western continent untouched. Now, he was near Cosmo Canyon when he found out why.

He saw a chopper land ahead of him before waiting for a moment and flying away. What payload could they possibly drop that could stop him?

It was Shinra’s final attempt. If this failed, Sephiroth would be treated like a natural disaster. Shinra would notify the next village of his arrival, and the authorities would sound a siren to evacuate. If absolutely nothing stopped him, the best anyone could do was live another day.

The payload wasn't a 'what'.

It was a 'who'.

A man that dared stand in his way. A man that used to have control over him, so much so that he was still breathing today.

“Sephiroth,” the slimy, irritated voice of the scientist broke through the air.

He remembered his own childhood like a waking nightmare. But worse, he remembered Jen’s pained expression when eating more than her fill simply by his instruction, her sacrificial obedience drilled into her at less than a year old.

“Are you done throwing your little tantrum-?” Hojo barely finished his taunt when the black gloved hand grabbed him by the neck and dragged him along the possessed march forward. The scientist struggled to keep his body off the ground as Sephiroth kept him down arm’s length, kicking and stumbling to avoid literally being dragged. But he couldn’t help his straggled response, “Clearly not.”

“What did you do to my daughter?”

The man clawed at the hand around his neck. “It’s difficult to answer like this, boy.”

Sephiroth tossed the man in the air like a tennis ball and grabbed a fistful of the collared shirt and lab coat to drag him down the same way. The man groaned but gods the soldier could not care less. “I will have none of your nonsense. Answer my questions.”

The scientist coughed but then let out the smarmiest chuckle. “You couldn’t ask these before?” A tighter grip on his clothing convinced him to answer. “We were trying something new. It was supposed to make her even stronger than you. To carry your bloodline the way it should be.”

Sephiroth nearly growled.

“She showed such promise…” He almost spoke fondly of her. “Why do you care?”

“Why did she die?”

“Pardon me, boy?”

“Why did Jen die?” He questioned imperiously, clenching his teeth. “Why did she starve to death?”

Hojo’s black eyes widened in annoyed realization. “Is that what this is about? She died from her malabsorption and now you’re doing…what exactly?”

“Why was it that bad?”

For once, the scientist felt like answering. Afterall, she was to be one of his greatest experiments, second only to the soldier he was looking at. “When you were that young, you had malabsorption too. It wasn’t nearly as severe as her’s, however. The average commercial protein shakes were plenty capable of sustaining your growth. If you just communicated with the lab in the first place, we could have informed you of her condition. You could have returned with minimal consequences. Visitation could be easily implemented until the child was strong enough to live with you. Hell, PR begged us for that day just to portray you in a sympathetic light.” Hojo scoffed. “Honestly it’s all drivel if you ask me, but this didn’t need to happen. This is your fault, boy.”

Some small part of the silver soldier foolishly believed that answers would calm his heart, even in the slightest. Only with the truth did he realize he did not care about the reason anymore.

Well, half truth.

The extension of Project S, known under a sub category called S-D, had a clear goal from its inception: create a biological child of Sephiroth and imbue it with the maximum concentration of Jenova’s cells possible. They began with the highest concentration that wouldn't kill the hostesses and lowered it as the experiment progressed. However, the first child successfully birthed expired within three weeks for exactly the same reason as Jen: malabsorption. There were multiple failed specimens between the first child and Jen, each tested with a different diet for survival. The same diet as Sephiroth led to failure in six weeks. The breast fed specimen lasted five weeks. The vegan specimen died within forty eight hours. Finally they gave the only female specimen a highly concentrated diet of pure protein and water as their ultimate attempt with their current level of J cells. And she survived. Well, she survived for three months before Sephiroth recklessly kidnapped her and unintentionally starved her to death over her fourth.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Hojo couldn’t agree more.

“I need her back,” Sephiroth confessed, and he had absolutely no idea why he bothered speaking his truth to the bastard scientist. “I’ll do anything. I’ll kill anything. I need the power to save her. I don’t care what it takes.”

Power.

The man tilted his head curiously, his mind itching to see the results of his sudden idea. “I may have an answer.” Now he had the boy’s full attention. “Go to the mako reactor on Mount Nibel. You’ll know upon arrival if it's enough to complete your task. It may hold the answers you seek as well.”

The soldier threw the scientist to the ground without losing a single step forward. Nibelheim was just across the coming river. He could afford the short detour. Something told him that the scientist was telling the truth like a calling, a thread of fate, something he never felt before, yet it meant nothing to him.

He passed through the village silently, not a single person approached or even stood in sight. He swore he would investigate the old Shinra Manor if this final mission was nothing more than a wild goose chase. His very existence since learning of his child was a wild goose chase.

However, surrounded by the rocky peaks of the Nibelheim mountains and spotting the bridge to the reactor, he heard a voice. An inhuman, unnatural, astral voice. Somehow kind and pulling if kindness was something he cared about anymore.

Let me help you.

It came from everywhere, everything. It came from inside him with no direction and no source. But he still didn’t care. He responded without a single beat lost in his march, “I need her.”

I know. I feel your pain, my son. We can bring her back.

The endearment meant nothing to him. He barely remembered a time when it would. He was supposed to use said endearments with his daughter to mend the loss of his mother. He didn’t even acknowledge these thoughts now. “How.”

Take the power of the Lifestream. Drain it until she's all that remains.

“Will that bring her back?” He found himself halfway up the bridge, his mindless movement pushing him closer.

Yes. Better than before. You'll have the power to build her a new body. She'll be yours. She'll be perfect. Nothing will harm her again.

Every other place he looked trapped him in a labyrinth of the same dead end: it’s impossible. Live your life or end your life. This velvety voice was the only one that validated his desire. He could save her, but he would reach this creature first.

“How do you know?”

Into the mako reactor, through the storage chamber, up the stairs of a room with his mother’s name, he only stopped when he entered under the marquee with the engraving “J-E-N-O-V-A”. White lights suddenly blind him, but the dizziness that followed screamed something unnatural. Something magical. A promise for when victory was claimed.

Let me show you.

Suddenly he was looking down at the core of the planet. At his sides were perfectly sliced walls of stone as if a single blade cut the planet down to its center. The green streaks of the Lifestream flowed from each stone into his body, glowing and growing. Below him laid the tiniest drops of the stream he did not absorb. Occasionally another drop would fall from his fingers and join the others on the ground, until they were all the lifeblood that remained.

He waved his hand and colors of magic he could not recognize flooded the slash. Every color in existence left his hand, making the mako drops glow brighter, and brighter, and brighter. It nearly blinded him. He had no choice but to close his eyes and turn away until it began to dim.

As the last of the glow fizzled out, the drops were gone, replaced with the body of his baby.

Her body and soul were restored as one.

Her hair was just as silver. Her skin was just as pale. Her eyes were the shining blue stars of catlike slits he remembered. And she was healthy. No bones protruded under a layer of paper thin skin. Her eyes were not dark and sunken. She was full. She was happy. And though she was too young to speak, the gasp in her breath and the overflowing admiration in her eyes spoke for her.

She cried for him. She missed him so much.

He scooped her into his arms before she could even make a sound, but she still cried against him. She held him as tightly as her little body allowed as she just kept crying his title. Her voice brought tears to his eyes.

She was back. She was back.

No life on this planet was worthy of her, not after letting her die. This simple embrace between father and daughter was worth more than all the life of this planet combined.

It was his baby. His connection. His Second chance.

Her.

It was her.

Thanks for reading!

Author’s Note: I honest to god made up Jen’s condition based on the fact that Jenova eats planets so Jen basically needs food from higher up the food chain to survive. I did not know malabsorption was a real thing (to an extent) so… oops lol.

Anyway, this is obviously a painful one so thanks for sticking around to the end! I promise not everything I write is sad!

#tw: mentions of suicide #tw: child death #sephiroth #hojo #zack fair #zack ffvii #zack ff7 #jenova #ffvii #ff7 #final fantasy vii #final fantasy 7 #oc is a generic child #I changed her name for once #i promise the next update will not be this sad!

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